RANSVESTIA

I changed from pants to skirt and stopped at a smaller plaza for another pleasant but shorter walk. The bar was open and I was seen from a distance by two or three other people, but no one seemed to stare. A couple left the cocktail lounge, glanced my way, then re- turned to their obviously more interesting conversation. The time was 11:30 p.m.

A planned walk in the downtown area of this town was not made because a policeman was busily checking each store for locked doors. I drove on to my special plaza which had the 24-hour super- market. I changed to my newest (like new - Goodwill) black patent pumps with two and a half-inch slender heels. These with the skirt made the costume look much more ordinary. After parking the car, I walked over to linger at the brilliantly lighted shoe store display. It was nice to know that my new inexpensive slender heel shoes were more attractive, at least to me, than any of the shoes on display with their chunky low heels or their platforms. The walk took me next to a furniture store, back for another look at the shoe store, then to the soft drink machine. A very wrong decision sent me back to the car instead of into the supermarket. Most likely, if I had gone shopping there, the next incidents would not have taken place. It was almost midnight and Wednesday would be another work day. Bedtime would be at least 1:30 a.m. so I reluctantly walked back to the car. I took off the suit jacket and draped it over the passenger seat. A police officer pulled into the parking lot, seemed not to notice, and passed near the supermarket. As I drove away, so did the officer. I stalled the motor, he waited for me to restart and let me go ahead. He followed me to the highway and at the next light I was relieved to see that he pulled into the left turn lane with signal flashing. Evidently as he pulled alongside, he was making an accurate reading. When the light turned green, he pulled in behind me and I saw the horrible flashing red light. I pulled over into the wide part of a savings and loan office driveway and awaited my fate. He asked for my drivers' license which I retrieved from my wallet which was in the rear seat in my trouser pocket. Next he asked me to get out of the car and began the questioning. He did not believe my story about the masquerade party in the next town. He asked for the host's name and address. He de- finitely did not believe the truth, that I was merely window shopping and buying a soft drink. He radioed for assistance after I pleaded for him to let me go with a warning. Two more cruisers appeared just as if this were the crime of the century. I was treated as if I were armed and dangerous. The Pepsi-Cola was sniffed by all officers present.